


This Is What It Feels Like

by beestill



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, F/M, Modern Era, Mutual Masturbation, Past Robb Stark/Jeyne Westerling - Freeform, allow me to apologize in advance for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:25:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7385431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beestill/pseuds/beestill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You act like I’ve never even seen a girl before.”</p><p>“What?” She pulls the string on the lamp that sits on their shared bedside table. She’s wearing a thin tee shirt with the school she attends written across the front and Robb pretends he can’t tell she isn’t wearing a bra underneath. “You’ve actually seen females that aren’t related to you?”</p><p>Or in which neither Robb nor Dacey can sleep in the room they share so he tells her about his ex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is What It Feels Like

The Mormont’s have been coming to the family cabin since Robb could remember; not just since he’d lost his father. Although, lately, it feels like they’re only there because of it.

Two of the Mormont girls, Dacey and Alysane, are in college now. Theon is too. Rickon and Bran would rather be with Uncle Benjen, Arya is mad she’s missing taekwondo, and Sansa is still confused why they can’t just go to the beach for the summer _like normal people do_. It’s an, overall, unwanted tradition.

But Robb’s always loved Gatlinburg. He loves riding the Alpine Slides and swimming in Abram Falls and looking at the view of the Smoky Mountains from their back deck. He wants to be no other place in the world than right here.

The first thing he does when he walks through the door, a suitcase in each hand, is take in a deep breath. It’s an aged and dusty smell but homely to Robb. In days, it will smell like firewood and marshmallows that were in the fire too long and he’s excited for it.

The rooming is all the same; it hasn’t changed in over a decade. Boys are with boys as girls are with girls. It hadn’t mattered when they were younger. By the morning, Cat would find them all tangled together, trying to fit onto one bed.

He tosses the suitcases on top of the bed that’s belonged to him since he was little. The sheets and the blankets are on the top shelf of the hall closet and they’re just the same. The racecars on them have faded over the years but the fabric is worn and soft, reeking of summer memories.

“Get your stuff off my bed.”

Dacey walks into the room, pulling a gigantic silver suitcase behind her. Her hair is sloppily thrown up on her head and the jeans she’s wearing look like they were being used as a napkin. “It’s my bed, my room. Yours is the next one over, Dace.” He tells her with a confused look on his face.

“Your moron friend paid me forty bucks to trade with him,” She pushes his stuff to the floor and tosses her own suitcase in their place. She’s an idiot, Robb thinks, staying by yourself for two months was worth more than only forty. He could’ve easily talked Theon into double. “Said he’s trying to bang some local girl and you’re too prude nowadays to let him borrow the room for a few hours.” Dacey says with a smug look on her face, “Funny enough he said _hours_ , when it’s probably only about eight minutes of struggle.”

“ _Funny._ ” Robb spits, undecided if it’s what Theon said about him or the look on Dacey’s face that is the core of his irritation. He crosses his arm, flexing his muscles more than he should. “Nothing’s changed. It’s still my bed.”

Dacey falls back on the foot of it, her shirt rising up several inches. She looks at him with raised eyebrows, “You can wrestle me for it. Though, I’ve got to warn you, I’m a lot better at it with no clothes on.”

Robb rolls his eyes at her and stomps from the room, figuring one stupid bed isn’t worth the trouble. Maege or his mom will find out soon enough about their arrangement and make them switch, giving Robb his bed back.

-

He hasn’t been back into the room and it’s been hours. Since it’s the first day, no one does anything or goes anywhere. The drive here was long enough; the day has been wasted through the windows of the car. Dinner is consisted of leftover snacks they brought for the travel and for dessert, they watch a DVD they’ve all seen a thousand times.

It’s midnight by the time the credits roll. Everybody is exhausted although Theon, suspiciously, is the first to retire for the night. He’s not getting any sleep in the near future and neither will Robb. The wood paneling is the only thing separating Robb’s new bed from Theon’s, and it’s nowhere near as thick as it needs to be. For this reason, Robb makes certain he’s the last one to sleep as he sneaks into his shared room. The lights are off and he can faintly make out Dacey’s body snuggled comfortably in _his_ sheets. He’s left with the ones Theon uses. They’re flannel like his favorite shirt but he hates them anyways; they’re not the old racecar ones.

Robb is right; sleep will not come easily tonight. Nothing is comfortable, both the mattress itself and the way his bed keeps shaking from the insistent _bang! bang! bang!_ on the other side of the wall. He huffs loudly through the pillow he’s smothered his face in. The occasional grunt that comes from beyond the wall is the delivering blow.

“Damn it, Robb,” Dacey growls. He hadn’t even thought that she might be having trouble sleeping as well. “Pick a spot and sleep on it.”

“You can’t hear it?” He asks, more shocked he’s the problem.

“Hear what?”

“That banging on the wall!”

Dacey sits up in bed, her body covered in shadows of the room, “You do know what that banging is, right?”

“Despite what you think, I’m not an idiot.” She’s always treated him like this, like he was a stupid little boy, like she knew a thousand more things than he did. Dacey was the only girl, maybe the only person, who looked down on him and he couldn’t feel more knocked off his high horse. It was like cold water on his back after being around four younger siblings that constantly looked up and relied on Robb.

“I couldn’t be too sure.” The sarcasm drips from her voice like honey.

“You act like I’ve never even seen a girl before.”

“What?” She pulls the string on the lamp that sits on their shared bedside table. She’s wearing a thin tee shirt with the school she attends written across the front and Robb pretends he can’t tell she isn’t wearing a bra underneath. “You’ve actually seen females that _aren’t_ related to you?”

“Kissed one, too.” He’s having a hard time keeping a straight face. Dacey is looking at him with a mixture of feigned surprise and excitement. He wants to laugh but he doesn’t want to ruin the game.

“Tell me her name.” She commands, tucking her fists under her chin like child ready for story time. “Tell me who the mystery girl that corrupted my poor Robbie is.”

“Jeyne,” Robb hasn’t said her name in months, not since they broke things off.

“Jeyne,” Dacey repeats. She looks like she’s rolling the name around on her tongue to decide if she likes it or not. “Was she pretty?”

“A little.” He lies. His Jeyne was the prettiest, at least in his eyes, but he won’t tell Dacey that. She doesn’t need to know, he’s decided.

“So what happened? Did she run away, screaming bloody murder, because you kiss like a dead guy?” He laughs under his breath. He’d nearly forgotten the time he’d kissed Dacey in the woods. They were barely teens and Theon was teasing Robb for never having done it. Dacey never gave him warning, just grabbed him by the shoulders and planted one on his lips. Robb’s lips tingled for what remained of the day.

“No,” He doesn’t want to talk about how things were left, how Jeyne’s mother despised him and drove her daughter from him, how much it broke his heart. Instead he focuses on the good of it all, “There were more kisses, each better than the last.”

“I doubt it,” She flops back on the bed with her hands folded neatly across her stomach. “Kisses are all the same, each boring as the last.”

“The way she used to scream with my mouth against her wet cunt begs to differ.” He can’t believe he’s said it, neither can Dacey. They both still for a second. Robb turns to look at Dacey. Her hands have drifted lower on her body, he’s almost certain. He wonders if he’s caused that, if he kept talking dirty that she would keep moving further. “She used to beg for my tongue, tell me how much she wanted me on my knees, lips on hers. I’d give in, too. It didn’t matter where we were, we’d find a good place. There was that time in the park, in my bedroom, in hers, in the shower, in my car, even in a field under the stars…” Dacey is looking at him with wide eyes. “I’m a gentleman and a romantic, mind you.”

He’s watching her with hooded eyes as her hands wonder beneath the covers. There’s movement where her hands are before she shuts her eyes and lets out a quiet gasp. With each circle he sees her fingers move in, his cock grows harder. “What about your hands?”

“She liked those too.” His voice is thick as he speaks, “I could fuck her with them for hours. She’d ride them like she would my cock. Sometimes I would tease her with them, touching her lightly over her panties, running a finger up and down her slit. Others I would have her breathless, writing my name into her clit, pushing three inside her and curling up to that spot that makes her back come off the bed.” Dacey’s fingers worked themselves more urgently onto her cunt. “I always liked to see her come.”

There’s an underlying meaning that both he and Dacey understand. Slowly she peels back the covers, and slides her pajama shorts to her ankles, letting Robb see the pink between her legs. Her hands go back to work within seconds, moans erupting from her chest. She looks at Robb, her bottom lip between her teeth. “I bet she liked to see you, too.”

Robb tears the covers from his body and stumbles his way to Dacey’s bed. He crawls between her spread legs and looks down at her. His cock is aching and sore, he wants to fuck her into those favorite sheets of his, but he refuses to touch her. She’s radiant like this, two fingers sliding inside and out of herself with the other hand rolling her clit between her thumb and forefinger. She’s wet, dripping really, drops of her slickness rolling onto the bed beneath. He’s afraid she isn’t real, that this beautiful image will fade away like a good dream if he touches her.

Dacey raises her eyebrows and nods at the navy sweats he's got on. They need to go, she means. Robb waste no time letting his cock free and spring upward. The first time he strokes it, his eyes are shut. It feels good, so good he won't last long, when he’s got his hand wrapped around his cock but nothing to what it could feel inside Dacey. He hears her breath pick up and opens his eyes to see her see fingers moving more erratically.

He speeds up his hand when she moans a loud _Robb!_ and lifts her hips from the bed as she comes. His name ringing from her lips is all it takes to drive him over the edge, spilling his hot seed over the belly of her shirt. He’s panting, nearly breathless, as he rides out his climax with a few more pumps.

She’s staring him in a way she’s never has before. “You ruined my shirt,” While her words are familiar, she doesn’t look like the Dacey he knows, the belittling one. “And woke me up.”

“I’m sorry,” is all he can manage out.

Dacey sits up and presses a kiss against his cheek, her lips swollen from biting them so much. She wraps her legs around his hips and pulls him close. “I didn’t sell my room cheap for you to talk to me with your words. Explain to me why I got the better deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> There's not enough Robb and Dacey in the world. I'm pretty sure they make the world keep spinning.
> 
>  
> 
> Title from "This Is What It Feels Like" by Banks.


End file.
